A Boy Who Will
by E.G. Potter
Summary: I always knew that I'd fall for the boy who fulfilled the list my mum and I established when I was young. I just never knew it would be my best friend. Full title: "I Will Fall For the Boy Who Will..." HHr. Slightly written in a drabble style. T for mild language.
1. Cook for Me

1. Cook for Me

I met Harry in the kitchens at ten o'clock, just like he had asked. I really had no idea what was going on. If he wanted to talk about anything – like how awful Umbridge was being – we could have just stayed in the Common Room. And why did he only want me and not Ron as well. Needless to say, I was beyond confused as I tickled the pear on the painting that would allow me into the Hogwarts kitchens.

When I set foot in the vast room, I was more than surprised. I didn't see a single house elf anywhere. But the smell of delicious food pervaded my mind. It became apparent to me then how hungry I was. I groaned mentally as I remembered that I had studied through dinner for the third time this week. It really was becoming a bad habit. I smelled sausage, followed by the warm, buttery scent of American biscuits and gravy. My stomach growled loudly.

The door swung shut behind me and I jumped a little, turning around to see Harry, in an apron no less, standing by the door. "Seeing as this was the fourth night in a row that you've missed dinner," he said. Fourth? I must have missed a day completely. "I figured you might be hungry. And what better than your favorite breakfast?" He smiled at me, his emerald eyes bright from behind his glasses.

"Harry James, you really didn't have to do this!" I protested. I could feel the smile beginning to creep onto my face regardless.

He walked over to me, taking my arm and leading me to a table set for two. "Didn't have to, but I wanted to. I figured we both needed a distraction and we both like to eat. That and I enjoy cooking, especially for pretty girls like you, Miss Granger."

I blushed. I couldn't help it. I didn't get compliments very often. "Oh, Harry," was all I could say.

He pulled out my chair and I sat down, thanking him for being such a gentleman. "Where are the house elves?" I asked as he served our food. I couldn't decide if it was classified as dinner or supper or a late-night snack.

"I spoke with Professor McGonagall, who in turn, spoke with the Headmaster about giving them the evening off. I figured you'd li –"

"Oh, Harry!" I cut him off. "That's the sweetest thing ever! I knew you believed in S.P.E.W.!" I gushed, dropping my fork on my plate with a clatter.

He just smiled, looking slightly abashed. "Are you going to eat or not?"

I picked up my fork again, taking a huge bite of food. It tasted wonderful. I never would have figured Harry to be such a good cook.

Throughout the rest of our meal, I decided that my best friend was most definitely full of surprises. There's no telling what he had up his sleeve.

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><p>(AN: I am just on a roll. Haha. This is like my fourth new story in a week. Y'all better love me. This one will be cute and fluffy and is based on a list my best friend gave me. :D Yes, it's HHr. Take it or leave it. Lemme know what you think! )


	2. Play in the Rain

2. Dance With Me

Believe it or not, there was only so much studying I could take. I stared out the window watching the rain, my chin resting on my hand. I sighed. Harry looked at me. We were the only ones left in the common room. Ron had long since gone to bed, but Harry had volunteered to stay up with me while I studied. I smiled at him, feeling a little bit of my tension dissipate. He smiled back, green eyes sparkling.

"You okay, 'Mione?" He asked me.

"No! I'm so tired of studying. But if I don't study then I'll fail my OWLs and ergh!" I ran my hands through my hair, making my curls stand on end.

At first Harry looked taken aback, but then he smiled and reached across the table, taking my hand in his. He chuckled, "I never thought I would see the day when Hermione Jane Granger was tired of studying."

I rolled my eyes, sticking my tongue out at him. "Whatever, Harry." I pulled my hand back, letting my eyes drift over to the window. "Hey, Harry. Want to do something crazy?"

I looked back at him, a smile on my face. "Um," he said. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine! Do you want to or not?" I gave him the puppy dog look that always made my father melt.

Harry sighed, resigned, as my father often did before he agreed to my request. "What d'you have in mind?"

Half an hour later, we were on our way outside, Maruader's Map in hand, under Harry's Invisibility Cloak.

"Hermione, do you know how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught? Umbridge will probably expel me!" Harry whispered from behind me.

"Oh, Harry, stop it. You sound like me," I giggled as we stepped foot outside the castle.

Harry pulled the Cloak off of us, wadded it up and stuffed it in his pocket. "Why are we outside in the rain?"

I giggled again, something very unlike me. I felt so free, for once! "Dance with me, Harry!"

I grabbed his hands, twirling around in a circle, laughing.

He looked a little reluctant at first, but then I hugged him and said, "Come on, Harry. Please? Consider it making up for the dance I never got with you at the Yule Ball last year."

He hugged me back. "Just one dance?"

"Just one," I smiled.

"All right then," he said, placing one hand on the small of my back. I laid one hand on his arm and he took my other hand in his. Then, we slowly waltzed across the grounds, in the pouring rain.

Sometime later, we were sitting in front of the fire on the floor of the common room in our dripping wet clothes, eating some desserts that Dobby had brought us. Harry had tipped him a Knut, which made me smile.

Harry checked his watch. "Hermione, did you know that it's past one in the morning?"

"Well, it's a good thing tomorrow's a Saturday," I said with a yawn. I stood up, stretching, my clothes mostly dry now.

"Thank you for dancing in the rain with me, Harry," I kissed him on the cheek and quickly walked over to the stairs to my dormitory. "Good night."

Halfway up the stairs, I turned around to see Harry, still sitting where I had left him, holding his hand to the place where I'd kissed him.

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><p>AN: I'm disappointed in y'all... Zero reviews? Show me some love, please? :)


	3. Let Me Sing

3. Let Me Sing with the Radio

"Ron, just do half of your essay before we go back. Please? You know you're going to have to do it eventually," I fixed Ron with a look.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine."

I smiled smugly to myself. Harry, Ron and I were in the kitchen of Headquarters, listening to the Wireless and working on the essay Professor Snape had issued us over the Christmas holiday. I was nearly done with mine, Harry was somewhere in the middle and Ron… was Ron and had barely begun his.

Harry looked up at our red-headed friend, "You know mate, I hate to break it to you, but she's right."

Ron and I looked at each other and then at Harry and then back at each other. I beamed at Harry and then stuck my tongue out at Ron. "Told you."

Ron flipped open his Potions book, grumbling quietly to himself. The Wireless played on in the background as we worked. Occasionally, one of them would ask me something about an ingredient or about stirring the potion and I'd explain, pointing out where they could find it in the book. As I finished my own essay, the boys shared a look and sighed simultaneously. I pulled a novel out of my school bag to read while they worked.

Finally, Ron set down his quill. "Hermione, it's two days before Christmas, my dad's in the hospital and we're on break. Can I please be done now?"

I sighed. He had a point. "All right," I said. "As long as you didn't write big to take up space."

He showed me his essay and that he'd written like a normal human being for once. He left it on the table to dry as he got up from the table. "D'you wanna play a game of chess, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "No, mate. I think I'll finish this first. I'm almost done anyway." He smiled at me, though it didn't reach his eyes.

Ron shrugged, heading upstairs. "Your loss, mate!"

After Ron had gone, I set my book on the table. Laying one hand on Harry's arm, I asked, "Are you okay, Harry?"

He sighed and sat back in his chair, tossing his quill down. "Yes, no, I don't know, Hermione."

"What's the matter, then?" I asked, leaning in to him.

He took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "It's Cho."

I felt my stomach drop as though I'd been thrown off the Astronomy Tower. "Oh," I said, feeling my face heat up. What was wrong with me? Just days before, I'd been reassuring him about her and now this?

"Yeah," Harry said, somewhat defeated. "She's pretty but, I don't know Hermione. She's just missing something."

_A decent sense of humor? _My mind supplied. Internally, I groaned. _Hush! _I looked at Harry. "She was your first kiss, I'm sure things will get better."

He just laughed a little and picked up his quill again. "Be proud of me, I'm almost done."

I smiled at him, taking it as a sign he was done talking about Cho Chang. I began to fiddle with the Wireless. I gasped as it picked up a Muggle station. A few bars of music played and I recognized the song. "I love this!" I turned it up.

Harry laughed at me. "'All I Want For Christmas Is You?'," he asked.

I shushed him. "I don't want a lot for Christmas, there's just one thing I need," I sang to him.

He just laughed at me and kept writing. I started dancing in my chair. "I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know." Part of my mind reeled I realized how much truth there was in what I was singing.

"I didn't know you could sing so well, 'Mione," Harry said, watching my dancing and laying down his quill.

I just smiled at him. "I'm full of surprises, Mr. Potter."

I ended up getting out of my chair, pulling Harry along with me. We danced around the kitchen as I sang along with the Wireless. For the first time in days, he was smiling, looking genuinely happy. We twirled and danced like idiots around the large kitchen.

"I won't ask for much this Christmas, I don't even wish for snow, I'm just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe." I looked up and belatedly realized that we were, in fact, under mistletoe. And not just any mistletoe, no, not with the twins being of age. Charmed mistletoe that would follow you around until you kissed the person you were with.

I looked down and laughed as Harry looked up. "Hermione, your singing summons things."

I blushed harder as I finished the song, "Make my wish come true, baby all I want for Christmas, is you."

And then, all of the sudden, Harry kissed me. Not a kiss on the cheek or one of those we're-just-friends peck on the lips kind of kisses, he kissed me. And I kissed him back. I was dancing with Harry Potter, in the kitchen of his godfather's house, singing a Christmas song, and he was kissing me. Dear, sweet Merlin. His kiss was gentle, his soft lips conforming to mine. I was intent on enjoying every second of this kiss. Suddenly, there was a sound on the stairs and we sprang apart quickly.

Ron stood at the foot of the stairs looking at us oddly. Both Harry and I were red in the face. I wonder if he felt what I felt during that kiss. I looked up and the mistletoe was gone.

"What're you doing?" Ron asked, confused.

"Hermione was singing and dancing," Harry said, smiling at me.

I stalked back over to the table and gathered up my books. I looked at Ron. "I was just leaving." I had to go think about this. And write to my mum!

"Um, all right," Ron said, moving to let my past.

What just happened?

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><p>(AN: 995 words. Happy? Haha. I love you guys. This is really beginning to deviate from cannon quite a lot and you know what? I don't care. Haha. Go ahead, tell me they're acting OoC. I know. But they're happy. :) What's your favorite part? What might you like to see in the future? Let me know and leave me love!)


	4. Keep Surprising Me

4. Keep Surprising Me

I reread the letter from my Mum for the third time that morning.

_Hermione, _

_Darling, first of all, you need to calm down. Harry is just a boy, not some unstable thing that's going to explode if you tell him how you feel. And before you protest that you don't have any "romantic" feelings for him, stop, because I know you do. I'm your Mum. It's my job to know these things. Just give it time, love. He's young and probably very confused about how he feels. From what you've told me about him though (which, might I add, is a great deal), he sounds like a perfectly capable gentleman. He may surprise you yet. _

_Your father and I are doing well. We're sad that you had to miss out on the skiing trip this year, but we'll get to see you over the summer, right? Give my love to Crookshanks and have a Happy Christmas, dear. Don't over-think things too much, alright? _

_All my love,_

_Mum_

_P.S. What did he get you for Christmas? ; )_

I shook my head, laughing at my mother's silliness. I really couldn't deny what I felt for Harry now. But the kiss had happened yesterday and we'd hardly spoken to each other since. I sighed and laid the letter on my bed, stretching. Crookshanks mewed as my foot nudged him. He stood and padded over to me, bumping his head into my hand.

"Oh, you're such a lush, aren't you?" I asked the cat as I scratched behind his ears.

"Mrowr."

I sighed, thinking about the holidays. I laughed aloud when I thought about the talking homework diaries I had gotten Harry and Ron. They'd never use them; what was I thinking?

Just then, an owl tapped on my window. I stood to let it in; it carried a small package and an envelope addressed to me, again in my mother's handwriting. I unencumbered the owl of its parcels and it flew off as I opened the envelope.

_Mi, _

_Just in case you decided against those odious homework planners as gifts for your friends. _

_Love, _

_Mum_

Putting the note in the bed, I opened the package to reveal a book on Muggle sports (which I assumed was for Ron) and a large box of chocolates (which I knew was for Harry).

My mother knew me so well.

Suddenly, there was a knock on my door. "Hermione?"

It was Harry.

"Um, just a moment!" I scrambled to hide the gifts, ending up just stuffing them under the blankets on my bed. "Come in!"

Harry let himself in the room, closing the door behind him, looking at me quizzically. "Hermione," he said, "why is your face red?"

"Oh, it is? No matter, Harry. Did you need something?" My voice was strangely high.

Harry studied me a moment. "Well, not really.. I just wanted to give you this." He pulled a small box out of his pocket.

"But Harry, Christmas is tomorrow," I said, feeling my face grow warmer.

He sat down on the edge of my bed, thankfully missing the gifts I was hiding. "I know," he said. "But I'd rather you not open this in front of everyone else." He handed me the box. It was smooth and velvety to the touch. I opened the box to reveal a beautiful necklace. It was on a silver chain, with diamonds that formed a butterfly holding on to a teardrop-shaped emerald. I pulled the necklace out, marveling at how delicate but sturdy it felt.

"Oh, Harry, you shouldn't have," I told him. "This must have cost you a fortune."

He blushed and shook his head. "No, it really didn't. It was my mum's. Professor Lupin – I mean Remus – took me to my vault the other day, on Sirius' orders, and I found a lot that I didn't know was there. I saw this and…" He trailed off, blushing again. "I thought of you."

I looked up into his eyes, noting how they matched the gemstone perfectly. I smiled at him, speechless. "Harry, I really.. I really don't know what to say."

He took my hand. "Hermione, it's alright. Let me put it on you?"

I nodded, handing him the necklace and pulling my hair to the side. His fingers fumbled gently with the clasp and they we warm as the brushed my neck.

"There," he said as he fastened it. He pulled me up to stand with him and I threw my arms around his neck in a fierce hug. He hugged me back, just as tightly. I planted a kiss on his cheek, my face just burning.

"Hermione," he said as we came out of the hug.

"Yes?"

"About yesterday…" He rubbed the back of his neck, looking nervous. "I really enjoyed that kiss. A lot more than the kiss I had with Cho."

I laughed a little, "Is that a compliment, Mr. Potter?"

He smiled at me, "Yes, Miss Granger, it is."

"Well," I said, fingering the gorgeous necklace. "I enjoyed it too."

He took my hand as we sat back down on the bed. I made sure he avoided the gifts under my blankets. I would have to write my mother the best thank you note ever for anticipating me changing my mind.

"Then, where do we go from here?" He smiled at me nervously.

"We'll see, Mr. Potter," I pulled his face to mine and kissed him, long and hard. He seemed rather dazed when we pulled away. "Thank you for the necklace, Harry. I really love it."

"You're welcome, Hermione. But as far as everyone else is concerned, that's from your parents and _The New Theory of Numerology _is waiting for you under the tree, fresh from Flourish and Blotts."

I kissed him again. "That's fine by me. Just keep surprising me like this and we'll be in good shape."

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><p>(AN: 980 words. :) Y'all love me, right? Two updates in the last 18 hours! I linked a picture of the necklace on my profile and while you're there, check out the poll. I'm really so sorry about the delay time in updating. I had a play and school and I'm getting ready for graduation and ah! It's crazy. Anyway, inspire me, please. :) The review button is your friend!)


	5. Comfort Me

5. Hug me and say, "No, you're not," when I say I'm fine

It was late. I was still up and in the Common Room doing homework. My eyes were weary and the words were beginning to blur on the pages of my Transfiguration book. This year was eating away at me. We were all still helping Harry cope with the loss of Sirius. I was already beginning to prepare for next year's NEWTs, on top of trying to keep Ron and Harry on top of all their schoolwork. Harry had been taking 'lessons' with Professor Dumbledore and had an unnatural obsession with Professor Slughorn.

I still thought about last Christmas. I thought about it every day. I was so worried that I had dreamed it all. I was worried that Harry had never kissed me, that it had all been a figment of my imagination. The only proof I had was the necklace. I wore it every day, under my robes. I don't know if Harry even knows that I still wear it. I reached a hand up to touch the emerald, smiling at how I knew it matched his eyes. I closed my eyes and pulled up the memory of kissing him. He and I had decided against pursuing a relationship after Christmas, even though we had both wanted to. He knew it would make me a target, and all he wanted was to protect me. Oh, how I needed him. No, I didn't need him. I wanted to need him. My parents raised me to be independent, to use my brains, and to take care of myself. But how could I take care of myself if I lost my best friend? How would I cope if I didn't have a part of me? Sure, I'd have Ron, but he can be so dense, and so incredibly thick. He's not like Harry. No, Harry's different. Harry's stronger. He doesn't have a choice. He's never had a choice. And he never will. Not until this damned war is over.

I sighed. This war is going to be the death of us all. Harry can't do it on his own! And with as stubborn as he is, he is bound and determined to. But I won't let him! I can't! Because if I let him do this on his own, then I'll lose him. Tears began to leak out of the corners of my eyes. If I lost him without trying to save him, then I would never be able to forgive myself. The tears turned into sobs. I clutched the necklace closer.

"Hermione?"

I jumped, dropping the necklace and pressing a hand to my now-racing heart. I turned to see Harry, clad in a white t-shirt and pajama pants, standing at the base of the stairs. Hastily, I wiped at my eyes, but my voice, full of emotion, gave me away. "Harry! What are you doing up?"

He walked toward me, "I could ask you the same thing. Have you been crying?"

"No," I sniffled, wiping at my eyes again. I silently cursed my emotions. I never cry. Yet, here I am, bawling like a baby at 2 A.M. in the Common Room.

He came over to my couch and sat beside me. "I don't believe you, Hermione. You never cry."

Observant prat.

"I'm fine, really, I just… I got frustrated with my homework." I lamely gestured to my textbook, setting it on the coffee table.

"Hermione Granger, frustrated with Transfiguration? Oh yes, and I'm a toad," he joked. He extended his arms. "Come here."

I sniffled again and gave in as everything hit me again. I laid my head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around me. I began to sob again, wrapping my arms around him. "Oh, Harry."

He kissed the top of my head. "What is the matter with you?" His question was gentle.

"I don't want to lose you, Harry!" I said quietly into his chest. "I'm not going to let you do this on your own. You can't."

He was silent for a moment, his thumb tracing circles on my back. When he spoke, his voice was just above a whisper, "Why would you lose me?"

I looked up at him. There were tears in his eyes as well. He blinked hard, as though willing them to vanish, as though he didn't want to show me that he was afraid as well. "You're the Chosen One," I half-joked.

He chuckled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. I snuggled closer to him. "That I am," he said, hugging me. "But that doesn't mean you're going to lose me, 'Mione."

"But there's a chance! Especially if you try and do this alone. I know you think you have to, but you don't!" I rubbed at my eyes. "You have people who love you, Harry, people who want to help you."

Harry kissed the top of my head again, his lips lingering there. "I'm going to make you a promise, Hermione. And you _have _to hold me to it, okay?"

I didn't move, but whispered, "Okay."

"I'm going to make it through this war," he held me tighter. "I'm going to win, no matter what it takes, but most of all, I'm going to survive. For you. I promise."

This just set me off again. I closed my eyes, hard, as the hot tears began to stream yet again. "You promise?"

"I promise." His voice was quiet. "And I'll do my best to let you help me, but if it puts you in danger, then you have to let me do it on my own."

"Harry," I said, amusement present in my voice, "I've been in danger ever since I met you, you dolt."

Laughter rumbled in his chest. "Well, thanks for that."

I sat up, his arm still around my shoulders. "You know it's true!"

"I know, Hermione. I know." He turned to look at me. A single tear had escaped and was rolling down his face. I raised a hand to wipe it away. He grabbed my hand and held it to his face, closing his eyes and smiling. When he opened them, he looked me in the eyes and said, "You know, you're pretty beautiful when you cry."

I slapped his face lightly and took my hand back, my face burning. "Liar," I accused, trying to pull away.

"No, I'm serious." He held me where I was. "I think you're beautiful, Hermione. I always think that. But when you show that you're not perfect, it just adds to it." He smiled at me. "It's nice to know that I'm not the only one with weaknesses."

I blushed. "I have plenty, Mr. Potter, and most of them concern you."

"Is that so?" He said, a mischievous grin making its way onto his face. "What are some others?"

"Well, I'm afraid of losing you. And I do most anything to keep you safe," I said, avoiding his gaze.

"Is there anything else?"

"Well…" I trailed off.

He laughed quietly. "May I take a guess?" He put a finger under my chin, pulling my face up to his. Gently, softly, he placed his lips on mine, kissing me and making my heart skip a beat. He slipped his hand into my hair, drawing me closer to him. I kissed him back eagerly, relishing the moment.

We were both panting as we pulled away. He laid his forehead on mine. "Yes," I whispered, "that's definitely one of my weaknesses when you're concerned."

He stroked my face with his thumb. I closed my eyes. "I forgot how much I enjoyed that." He pulled me in and kissed me again, and again, and again. I pulled away after a few and laid my head on his shoulder. I sighed contentedly. He yawned, and then I yawned. Neither of us wanted to move, so it was agreed on that the couch was a wonderful place to sleep.

He readjusted and laid down, tugging me along so that I laid half on top of him, half on the couch. I pecked him on the lips, not caring. I laid my head on his chest. His hand traced patterns on my back. "Sleep well, beautiful girl."

I smiled. "You too, Harry."

After a few minutes, when I was sure that he was asleep, I grabbed my necklace again, marveling at how much it represented for me. "I'm glad you still wear it," Harry said sleepily. I swatted at his chest.

"Go to sleep you," I said with a yawn.

"You too," he mumbled.

As I drifted off to sleep, I began to wonder how we were going to explain this one in the morning. But it didn't really matter, not in the grand scale of things. Because this, now, was our time, and I didn't need to worry about what was to come.

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><p>AN: Okay. Wow. Huzzah for channeling my emotions into productive writing! I did NOT expect this to be over 500 words, let alone 1,400+! I'm doing my best to keep to cannon as best as I can... for the next chapter or so. ;) I hope this lives up to all your expectations and more!

Check out eg(underscore)potter on Twitter for updates on what I'm writing next! (Replace (underscore) with an actual _) And don't forget to review!


	6. Help Me Face My Fears

6. Help Me Face My Fears

"I'll go with you," I choked. Merlin, had it come to this? All year, I'd wondered; all year, I'd suspected. But now… No. This couldn't be happening. I bit back my tears.

"Hermione, no. Kill the snake. That's all I need you to do. Then, you and Ron are free and clear to kill him," Harry's voice was resigned. He'd accepted it.

Dammit, no!

I don't even remember moving, but the next thing I knew, my arms were around Harry's neck and I was holding on to him for dear life. For my life. For his. His returning hug was just as tight.

"Harry," I said, so quietly that I wasn't even sure I had said it at all, "you promised."

"I know." His voice is just as quiet as mine. "I know."

He pulled away from me. I was not going to cry. He placed a kiss on my forehead. I was not going to cry.

"I'll do my best," he whispered.

I was not going to cry.

Harry looked at Ron. Neither boy said anything. Then Harry nodded and left, like the hanged man walking to his noose.

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><p>It felt like forever. I was sitting on the steps, at least, what used to be the steps, which lead into the castle. I was not wholly apart of the mourning Weasley group, nor did I belong anywhere else. Ginny had, at some point, come to sit beside me.<p>

Not knowing was killing me.

And then we saw them, a large mass of black moving toward the castle: Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Their arrival meant one thing and one thing only. I didn't let myself think the phrase. He promised me. He promised!

I looked at Ginny as others around us stood to see what was happening. Her brown eyes held sadness and no comfort.

The voice that spoke was cold and piercing, like I had swallowed ice.

"Harry Potter is dead."

"No," I whispered. "No. No!"

Ron grabbed my arm.

"Be quiet, you insolent Mudblood," Voldemort said.

He promised me.

He promised he'd survive!

But no, there he was, lying in Hagrid's arms. Dead.

Not much registered with me anymore. I was numb. I could hear the gleeful voice of Voldemort continually declaiming Harry's death, but all I could think was, _No, God no, he promised! He promised!_

I didn't hear much of the speech Neville gave because the instant he pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat, Harry fell, no, scrambled out of Hagrid's arms. Merlin. He kept his promise. He was alive!

I smiled, and then looked to Ron who beamed at me.

Then the madness started. It seemed like everyone moved at once, started shouting and talking all at once. But then Harry was back with us, where he belonged, belaboring us with a to-do list the size of the castle.

I caught his hand, for a spilt second, "You kept your promise."

"Of course I did." And as though there were not a crazed wizard outside that we needed to kill, he kissed me.

Someone cleared their throat. "I'm not sure the two of you noticed," Ron said, his voice a mixture of amusement and sarcasm, "but we're kind of in the middle of a war here."

We all laughed, diffusing the tension, and went to the task at hand.

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><p>AN: Don't kill me. I know that was probably shorter than a lot of you expected but, hey, I got it over with. Now we're onto the cute and fluffy things on the list. Hopefully this was up to par and you enjoyed it. :) Let me know what you think and maybe I'll get you another chapter before I set off for my transcontinental venture on Tuesday! (And if I don't, then you're probably going to have to wait until July for more.)


	7. Sometimes, Treat Me like a Child

7. Sometimes, Treat Me like a Child

I yawned as I stretched, rubbing sleep from my eyes. I looked over to check the clock on my nightstand. 9:30? Merlin's socks, I'd slept late, although I didn't blame myself. Last night had been my first night to actually be home with my parents since I had brought them home from Australia and restored their memories. They had had to spend a couple of weeks in St. Mungo's because of it, and by that time, I was ready to go back to Hogwarts. But now, Christmas break was here and I was more than delighted to spend it with my parents for once.

I got out of bed, feeling absolutely lethargic, and made my way to the shower, hoping it would rid my body of the sluggishness. I missed Harry and Ron. I was in a dorm with Ginny now, as well as the rest of the girls in her year, so I had friends at school, but it just wasn't the same without my boys. Harry was taking it easy for a while, working on cleaning up Grimmauld Place and spending time with his godson; Ron was helping George and Lee run Weasley's Wizarding Wheezy's. I knew both boys were eventually going to become Aurors, but they were taking their sweet time.

Once I was out of the shower, I dried my hair with my wand and pulled it back into a simple braid, not wanting to deal with it. I put on some old sweat pants and one of Harry's old Quidditch practice shirts that he'd given me not too long ago. I smiled as I thought about him. Our relationship was slowly progressing. I couldn't blame him for wanting to take it slowly; we had both been through hell and back in the last year or so. I was just happy to spend time with him when I could, and I loved it when he sent me letters at school.

"Hermione, darling, there's a boy on the phone for you!" Mum called up the stairs.

"Coming, Mum!" I replied, taking the stairs two at a time. I was certain it was Harry, mostly because Ron had had horrible past experiences with Muggle technology.

"A little eager, are we?" Mum teased me as I took the receiver from her. I stuck my tongue out at her. I had truly missed her this last year.

"Hello?" I said into the phone, telling my stomach that no butterflies were needed here.

"Hermione!" The voice on the other line was distant, cheerful, and unmistakably Harry Potter. "How are you?"

"I'm well, despite the fact that I woke up about an hour ago. How are you?" I refused to twirl the phone cord around my hand as the Muggle movies so often depicted girls doing when on the phone with their beau.

Harry laughed at me. "9:30? Really, Hermione, you're falling apart. I'm doing well. Are you busy today?"

Heat flooded my face. "Oh, um, no, I don't think so. Why d'you ask?"

"Would you care to spend the day with me?" I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Spend the day with you? Of course! Well, actually, I'll have to ask," I laughed at myself, and my rambling. I had no need to be this nervous!

"Ask?" Harry inquired, obviously thinking me silly. "Hermione, you helped take down the darkest wizard of all time and you're asking your parents for permission to spend time with me?" There was laughter in his tone.

"It's still their house, Harry, and I'm still their daughter!" I told him. "It doesn't matter that I'm 19-years-old, as long as I live here, I feel obligated."

He laughed at me again. "Fine, then. Ask. I'll wait."

I set the receiver down on the sideboard. "Mum?" I asked, entering the kitchen. She and Dad were sitting at the table, both with mugs of coffee in front of them. Dad was engrossed in this morning's paper while Mum was working on the crossword. A plate of Danishes sat between them.

"Oh, Hermione, darling. Are you off the phone? Who was it?" Mum asked me, setting down her puzzle.

"It's Harry," I told her. Dad looked up. "And I'm still on the line with him. I was just wondering if I could spend the day with him."

Daddy looked at me over his glasses, then back to Mum. "I want to meet this boy," he said. "I'm beginning to think you've made him up!"

"David!" My mother admonished him. Daddy went back to his paper. "What did the two of you have in mind, dear?"

"Well, he didn't really say…" I faltered. What _did _he have in mind?

My mother studied my father as he perused _The Daily News_. "I think you're father's idea is spot-on. Why don't you bring him around here?"

"All right," I said, making my way back to the phone. "Harry?"

"Still here," he yawned. "What took so long?"

"Just my parents," I told him. "What did you have in mind for us to do today?"

"Nothing too special. I was wondering if maybe I could come around your place, actually. I need out of this house."

"How do you have a working telephone in Grimmauld Place?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"It is a Muggle neighborhood, 'Mione," he said patiently, as though explaining something to a toddler.

I rolled my eyes. "Honestly, Harry. I'm not stupid." He laughed. "But my parents actually were wondering if you could come over here. Daddy wants to meet you."

"That sounds good to me," he said, his voice cheerful again.

I gave him my address, and hung up the phone, running upstairs to change clothing.

* * *

><p>Not even thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang. I looked around my room at the disarray of clothing my room has become. I had finally decided on a cream colored sweater and a pair of dark jeans. I had taken my braid down and brushed through my hair, thankful that it had decided to curl today as opposed to poof.<p>

Quickly, I magicked the clothing back to where it belonged and tried not to seem eager as I descended the stairs. I reached the door before either of my parents and pulled it open to reveal my best friend standing on the front steps, flakes of snow covering his shoulders and hair.

I just stared at him. "How did you –"

"Knight Bus."

"But what about—"

"Glamour charm," he smiled at me. Maybe he should have been in Slytherin after all.

"I'm so happy to see you," I cried finally, wrapping my arms around his neck, nearly knocking him off the stoop.

He wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me tightly. "I'm happy to see you, too, 'Mione," he kissed the side of my head.

"Hermione?" My mum's voice said from inside the house. I let go of Harry as though he were on fire. "Why don't you invite the poor boy in?"

I blushed, and grabbed his hand. "Come on, then."

He laughed.

Once inside, he removed his coat to reveal a simple green long sleeved shirt that matched his eyes perfectly. "Harry," I said, as my dad came to stand beside Mum. "These are my parents, Catherine and David Granger. Mum, Dad, this is my best friend, Harry Potter."

"Hullo," Harry said, almost meekly. I swear. This boy could go fight Dark wizards all day long and not think twice about it, but blushed when he met my Muggle parents who owned a dentistry practice?

Mum wasted no time at all, tackling him in a hug that would rival even me. "Oh, Harry! We've heard so much about you!" She let go of him and he looked a bit dazed. I couldn't blame him. My mother could truly be overbearing at times.

"It's lovely too meet you, Mrs. Granger," Harry said, his face flushed. I smiled at him apologetically. My mother wasn't kidding when she said that they had heard a lot about him. I tended to talk about him very often in my letters.

My father extended a hand to Harry, who looked relieved that there wasn't a shotgun in the room. I don't even know if my father owned a gun. "It's nice to finally meet you, my boy. You've been a good friend to our Hermione."

Harry smiled. "I can assure you, sir, your daughter has been a much better friend to me than I've been to her."

It was now my turn to blush. "Harry, that's non-sense," I told him.

He just looked at me and smiled, shaking his head as though I was the silliest person on the face of the Earth.

"So, what are you kids up to today then?" My mum asked as we all moved toward the sitting room. She had just laid things out for tea. "Would you like to join us for tea?"

Harry looked at me. I shrugged. "Up to you, Potter."

"I would enjoy that, Mrs. Granger," Harry said, politely. "Then I was thinking Hermione and I could take a walk."

"Oh, but it's so cold out!" My mum said, taking a seat in an armchair.

Harry and I laughed. "Mother," I said, "we have magic, remember?"

Mum busied herself pouring tea. "I always seem to forget about that."

Only my mum could forget that her daughter was a witch.

* * *

><p>A little while later, Harry and I were bundled up and headed off down the road. Tea had gone over well. Harry had fascinated my father with talk of Quidditch. Men.<p>

"So, where are we going?" I asked Harry, my breath turning into steam as soon as it left my mouth.

Harry smiled my favorite little half-smile. "You'll see," he said, reaching out his gloved hand for my mine.

After a few more minutes of walking, we arrived at a very empty Muggle playground, coated in snow. "Ta da!" Harry shouted, flinging his arms out wide.

"A playground?" I asked dubiously.

He nodded. "A playground."

"Harry, what on Earth are we going to do at a playground?" I wrapped my arms around myself.

"Play," he told me, as though it were the most obvious thing ever.

I just looked at him.

"Come on, Hermione," he begged me, "when was the last time you just acted like a kid?"

I thought for a moment. I really couldn't remember. Harry grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the swings, an absolutely gleeful expression on his face. It made me happy to see him happy, so I just went with it. Maybe, sometimes, it's just good to be a kid.

* * *

><p>(AN: Oh, I love this story! Teehe. This just randomly hit me this afternoon. I hope you all enjoyed it!

Now, for some serious busines. I am going to be going off to school very soon, and FFN is blocked on their internet because.. Well. I don't know why, really. All I know is that though I may be writing, the updates I will be able to get you will be few and far between. I'm sorry. I hope I can find a way around this issue.

Regardless, I'm not going to abandon you. I promise!)


	8. Always Say What's on His Mind

8. Always Say What's on His Mind

The fire roared in the fireplace in front of me. Pausing to turn the page, I took a drink from my mug of hot chocolate that sat on the side table. The clock on the mantle began to chime six o'clock, causing me to pull out of my dreamy state. I had been sitting here reading for almost two hours, waiting on my dad and Harry, who was staying with us for the holidays, to get back with our Christmas tree. What was taking them so long?

I stretched and yawned, causing Mum to look up at me from her book. "Where do you think they are?" I asked her, trading my book for my mug on the table.

"I really have no clue." She took off her glasses to rub her eyes, "But it's getting late. We'll need to get supper on the table soon."

I nodded, thinking about the beef stew currently simmering on the stove. My stomach growled. "I guess I wasn't paying attention to anything except for my book.

Mum laughed. "Sounds typical for a Granger woman, love."

The front door banged open. "Catherine! Hermione! We found it!"

At the sound of my dad's voice, Mum and I both got up, albeit both a little stiffly from being curled up reading, and rushed to the door. In the doorway, I saw one of my father's red mittens attached to his brown coat covered arm. On the other side of what I assumed as the Christmas tree, I saw Harry's messy hair peaking over the evergreen's needles.

"David!" My mother admonished. "What in the name of Father Christmas himself _is _that?!"

"It's our Christmas tree!" He exclaimed happily. I could just imagine the smile on his face. It was always his goal to bring home the perfect tree each year that we're home for the holidays.

"Daddy, that isn't a tree," I giggled. "That's a baby giant!"

The messy hair on the other side bobbed in agreement. With mirth in his voice, Harry said, "It is almost as big as Grawp, isn't it?"

"What?" My mother said, perplexed. "What is a 'Grawp'?"

"Nothing, Mum," I told her with a smile. "Just someone we know."

I saw a golden colored glove pop up above the messy hair, giving me a thumbs up.

Mum gave me a strange look before turning her attention back to the monstrosity in the doorway. "Do you have a plan for this, David William Granger? Or do you just plan on heating the entire neighborhood on our tab?"

"Well, I, uh," Daddy laughed nervously. "I thought the kids could, you know."

"Magic it in?" Mum asked, her tone weary.

"Well, yeah," Daddy said lamely. I laughed.

"What if the neighbors notice?" Mum demanded, obviously concerned.

"Mum, I can fix that with magic," I said meekly, fingering my wand. I normally was not a proponent of automatically turning to magic, but I figured this called for it.

"No," she told me emphatically. "We'll not draw attention to ourselves."

_Never mind the giant conifer in our doorway, _I thought.

"We'll manage, somehow."

Famous last words.

* * *

><p>An hour and a half, three pair of gloves, and a living room full of pine needles later, we finally had the tree in the house and in the tree stand. Once the door was closed, Mum decided that it was okay for Harry and me to stand the tree up with magic, as well as undetectably expand the ceiling just a little so that we could put the star on top. We took a break from the tree to eat (finally), and then spent the rest of the night decorating and putting presents out. After all was said and done, Harry and I were cuddled together on the couch, sipping wassail.<p>

"You know what, Hermione?" Harry said after a few minutes.

"What's that?" I said raising my cider to my lips.

"I like your family."

I chuckled. "I'm glad. I'm fairly fond of them as well."

A few minutes passed until he spoke again: "Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"I like you."

"Well, I would certainly hope so," I teased him gently.

He swallowed a little nervously. "I mean," he sighed in frustration. "I _like _you."

"As in fancy me?"

"Yes."

"Again," I said, "I would certainly hope so, dear. Otherwise you've just been using me to test out your snogging."

He smiled a little bit, looking as though he was in deep thought. "I spoke with your dad today."

"It's good to know that your entire day at the Christmas tree farm wasn't spent in silence then," I said with a rueful smile.

He shot me a look. "Why are you so sassy tonight?"

"Why are you so forthcoming?" I countered, sticking my tongue out at him.

Harry just shook his head. "You're not making this any easier on me, love."

"Sorry, continue." I took a drink of wassail.

"As I was saying, I spoke with your dad today. We had a good, long talk, and we agreed on several things about you." Harry said, staring at his hands.

"And?" I prompted.

"We both think you're the most wonderful girl in the world, and we both agree that you deserve the best." He continued to stare at his hands. "And your dad said that it would be alright if I asked you a question."

"Harry, you ask me questions on almost an hourly basis," I deadpanned.

He glared at me. "Really not helping, 'Mione."

"Sorry!"

"Anyway," he drew out the word, pausing before continuing. "Hermione, we've known each other for a long time now, and I really fancy you, and I think that you really fancy me, and I really think it's time that we made it official. Will you be my girlfriend?"

"What?"

"I said: Will you be my girlfriend?" Harry blushed.

I felt the smile on my face grow. "I knew what you said, I just wanted you to say it again."

He laughed. "So? Will you?"

I leaned over and kissed him. "Of course."

"Good," he said as he kissed me back. His lips tasted like apple and cinnamon. "Because I wasn't going to take no as an answer."

* * *

><p>(AN: I'm in a Christmas mood, can ya tell? And it's not even Halloween yet. Oh well. Haha. Hoped you liked it!

Oh! Let's have a little random review topic, shall we? What's your favorite pumpkin-y food? Mine is everything. Haha. Go check out my two most recent stories! You'll love them! Until later, dear readers!)


	9. Remember the Little Things

8. Remember the Little Things

The rain poured over the window in torrents. I paid it little notice, really, except for taking advantage of the gloomy atmosphere the weather created. I had the day off, so I was curled up in my favorite chair by the fire, reading, completely oblivious to the world. I didn't even bother changing out of my pajamas.

I started the morning with a cup of coffee and a romance novel my mother had given me recently. Then, as morning and afternoon collided, the abandoned cup of coffee became a cup of tea, complete with a touch of milk and honey. The romance novel had found its way to the side table, and I was now halfway through a mystery that I'd found in Flourish & Blotts the last time I had gone to Diagon Alley.

I didn't realize just how long I had been sitting there until Harry took the empty teacup and replaced it with a glass of pumpkin juice. "I think that's enough caffeine for one day."

I looked up, completely baffled. How long had he been here? "What?"

Harry laughed lightly. "I said, that's enough caffeine for today. You had one cup of coffee this morning, and then three cups of tea. I don't really know how you haven't needed to go to the loo yet today."

"Oh," I said, closing my book. This one was about a grand adventure, with a wizard whose idea of magic made me laugh a little. "Have you been getting my drinks all day?"

He smiled and kissed the top of my head. "Yes, love, I have. I know we're surrounded by magic on a daily basis, but most beverages do not just prepare themselves."

"Have you been here all day?" I unfolded myself from my armchair, noting how stiff I was from almost an entire day of no physical activity.

"I got here around book number three, I think. That's when I brought you your first cup of tea." Harry scooped Crookshanks into his lap, rubbing him just behind the ears. "I also fed your cat, paid the owl for today's _Daily Prophet_, and prevented the third Wizarding war from erupting."

I shot him a glare at the last thing he listed. "Oh, now you're just having me on!"

"Well," he chuckled, "you were so entranced in your reading that I doubt you would have noticed a full on duel in this very room!"

I threw a book at him, which he easily dodged. "Prat."

"But you love me," he teased, coming back over to kiss me on the lips. Merlin, this man was a saint. "I did, however, fix you dinner."

"Harry! You didn't have to do that!" I protested. Just then, my stomach growled as though overjoyed by the prospect of food.

"Apparently I did, 'Mione," He snickered. "How does chicken parmesan sound?"

"How is it that you can forget your own birthday, but manage to remember how I take my tea and what my favorite meal is?" I chided him.

Handing me a plate of food, he kissed me again. "It's the little things, right?"

* * *

><p>(AN: Howdy. If you couldn't tell, this one is a kind of stand-alone from the plot that just sort of...developed a few chapters ago. I'm sorry it's so short, but I do hope that you enjoyed it. Quality over quantity, right? Should be more updates soon. Leave me review love! Xo.)


	10. Sometimes, Treat Me like an Adult

10. Sometimes, Treat Me like an Adult

The morning passed slowly, perhaps just so to allow me to think about what had happened the night before. Across the table from me, Harry stirred his coffee, listlessly leafing through the sports section of my _Daily Prophet. _

We had nothing to say to each other.

It had all started the previous night when Harry, who was visiting me at my parents' house for the week, had come into the kitchen where I was working on a Charms project, and teased me about burning the midnight oil. One thing led to another, and unfortunately, I had snapped at him about his decision not to return to Hogwarts after the war. Once the words had left my mouth, I'd felt absolutely horrible. Harry, however, was not one to let an arguable subject lie, and it had ended in an outright row, leaving me in tears and Harry storming out to the garden for fresh air.

After that, I had hurried up to bed so that I wouldn't have to face him again. Sleep evaded me for the majority of the night, leaving my mind to dwell on the hateful things we had both said. Why couldn't I have just kept my big mouth shut? Hermione Granger, insufferable know-it-all, always has to be right, didn't you know that? _Ugh. _

Harry cleared his throat, a loud noise in an otherwise silent house, and jarred me back into the sluggish morning. I set down the section of the paper I had been reading, instead opting to stare out the window and watch the downpour. _Gray skies, gray mood, everything is just bloody gray today, _I thought, noticing how even my sweatshirt matched theme of the day. I picked up the newspaper again, trying to feign interest while I studied my boyfriend out of the corner of my eye.

His eyes were bloodshot as they moved quickly over the page, scanning Quidditch scores and flitting over the commentaries that Ginny so lovingly followed. He looked tired, his face drawn as though he too hadn't slept well after our fight. It was then that I sighed, unwittingly drawing attention to myself. He put down his paper and rubbed his eyes, setting his black-rimmed glasses on the table.

"Hermione?" He said my name cautiously, as though he were unsure of how to proceed.

Telling myself to ignore my wounded pride, I answered. "Yes?"

"Can we… Talk about last night?" Harry still seemed so uncertain about speaking to me. Was I that imposing of a person when I was angry?

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea." I fiddled with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, slightly apprehensive.

Harry took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened last night. I should have realized that what you were working on was important, and I shouldn't have given you grief about it."

I felt heat rush to my face. He thought this was his fault? "Harry," I said, reaching across the table to take his hand in mine. "It wasn't your fault."

He looked at me, perplexed. "It wasn't?"

I almost laughed at his confusion. "No, Harry, I think I'm mostly the one to blame. You were just trying to make me laugh, and I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"But you wouldn't have snapped at me if I hadn't made that smart-ass remark," he pointed out.

"True," I allowed. "But I could have also handled it better."

He smiled my favorite smile, the crooked little grin he gets when something has gone his way. "So since we're mutually at fault then… All is forgiven?"

I smiled back at him. "Yes, I believe it is."

He leaned across the table to kiss me on the lips. "I'm glad," he said, kissing me a second time. "That was torture knowing you were mad at me."

"And to think," I quipped, "that only a few years ago it didn't even faze you."

His face darkened a little at that, but he protested in good humor. "I wasn't really the most considerate of guys when I was sixteen."

"Yes, dear. I was there, I remember it vividly," I deadpanned.

Harry was silent for a moment or two, and then, "Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Well, you just did, but continue," I teased, trying to make him laugh. It didn't work, and I could see that something else was bothering him.

"Are you…" he paused, searching for the right words. "Are you really upset with me for not going back for my NEWTs?"

I bit my lip, trying to decide how to phrase my answer. "I'm not upset with you," I said finally. "I wish you and Ron had come back with me, trust me, it's very strange without you both there, but I understand why you didn't want to." I looked him in the eye, finding deeply buried sadness that hadn't been fully coped with yet.

Harry nodded, unable to articulate anything, but I understood. He leaned across the table to kiss me again, and whispered, "Thank you for understanding."

"Of course," I said, ruffling his already messy hair. "It's my job, love."

He stood after kissing me again, and made his way to the stairs, presumably to go take a shower.

"Harry?" I called after him, smiling to myself at just how attractive he was.

"Yeah?" He turned around to look at me.

"Thanks for treating me like an adult," I said, and meant it. "I'm glad we can talk about our issues."

He walked back over to where I was sitting and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Of course, love," he said. "It's my job."

* * *

><p>Words: 943.<p>

A/N: *whew* You've been waiting all summer! Bless you all for sticking with me for so long. You're all wonderful, and I truly value your readership and your input. There's several things left on the list, so don't worry, I'll be around for a while. ;) So just, yeah, thanks for reading, don't forget to review, and if you don't have me on Author Alert, I posted another HHr fic the other day that I think you'll enjoy as well. :)

Happy rest of the summer (I go back to college in two weeks) and toodle-pip!


	11. Let Me Wear His Clothes

11. Let Me Wear His Clothes

I made it out of Hogwarts relatively unscathed, earning O's in every NEWT level class I had taken. After graduation, and a particularly confused graduation party at my parents' house that had ended with two memory charms (and a display of Miraculous Mystic Mayhem Makers, courtesy of Ron and George), I had settled into my own flat just outside of London. It was a nice flat for someone moving out on their own for the first time. The kitchen was roomy, and the living room had a window seat for reading, but being on my own was very strange and very quiet.

I guess I've never _really _been on my own, honestly. Being at Hogwarts during the school year and sharing a room with three other girls was enough to break you from expecting silence as you slept. And in the summers, I had almost always bunked in Ginny's room. Even when we were looking for Horcruxes, I had always been able to hear the boys, talking or snoring or just _something_.

I sat up in my bed, throwing the blankets off in a huff. I wasn't doing myself any favors, tossing and turning restlessly because it was just too quiet to sleep. I had tried to turn on the wireless earlier, but there was no way anyone could sleep while _The Witching Hour _played through sappy love songs. I padded out to the living room, book and wand in hand, fully intending on reading myself to sleep in the arm chair.

10:45 passed, then 11:15, eventually followed by 11:45. By midnight, I'm no more inclined to sleep than I was when I first sat down to read. I sighed, casting a furtive look at the telephone hanging on the wall. I couldn't call Harry, not this late. I mean, I could, but I would feel extremely guilty for waking him up. I thought briefly about making a light sleeping draught, but then remembered that I was out of lavender.

"Fine!" I relented, startling Crookshanks who was sleeping on the kitchen counter. Crossing the room, I pulled the phone off its cradle and punched in Harry's number. Ron had called me absurd for insisting on Muggle technology (that didn't work, in his opinion), but my flat didn't have a fireplace and my mum insisted that since I can call home, I _should _call home.

One ring… Two rings… Three rings, and then, "Hello?"

"Hi," I said meekly, twisting the phone cord around my fingers like a lovesick preteen.

"Hermione?" Harry didn't sound groggy like I had expected. "Is everything alright?"

"Erm, yeah," I sighed, relieved just to hear someone else's voice. "I just couldn't sleep. It's too quiet."

He laughs a little. "Yeah, I know what you mean." A pause, and then, "D'you want me to come over?"

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Do you mind, Harry? Merlin, I'm sorry if I woke you, I just, well, I didn't know what else to do."

"I'll be there in a few minutes," he said. The line went dead, and I hung the phone back where it belonged. I twisted my hair into a messy braid just to have something to do with my hands as I waited.

If I hadn't been expecting him, the soft _pop! _of Harry's Apparition would have startled me, but more than anything, I was just happy to see my boyfriend. He crossed the living room, dropping a small bag on the couch as he did, and wrapped me up in his arms. "Hey," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I looked up at him. He wasn't much taller than me, but the difference was enough for me to be able to rest my forehead on his chin. "I missed you."

"Hermione," he laughed, "I helped you finish unpacking not even eight hours ago."

"I know," I sighed for what felt like the thousandth time in the last hour. "But still. Being on your own is… Odd."

He led us over to the armchair, plopping down and pulling me into his lap as he went. "Is that what's bothering you?" He asked. "Being alone?"

I nodded, tracing the outline of the Puddlemere United logo on his t-shirt with my fingertips. "I've never been alone before. I mean, I've always had someone near."

"Being alone is hard," Harry said seriously, "no one ever really prepares you to be alone, so then when you are, you don't know how to handle it." He rested his hand on my thigh.

I laid my head on his shoulder. "You never answered me," I almost whispered. "Did I wake you up?"

The laugh that escaped his lips was devoid of humor. "You're not the only one with sleeping problems, my love."

"Stay with me tonight?" I asked, wanting nothing more than to hear his breathing as I drifted off to sleep.

"Of course."

* * *

><p>We fell into an easy pattern after that. Harry would to go Auror training; I would go to my internship with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Most days, we ate lunch at the Leaky Cauldron with Ron, and sometimes George, who joined us only when he felt up to it.<p>

By the third week of living in my flat 'on my own,' Harry had all but moved in with me. It was small, at first – his clothes in the laundry hamper, his toothbrush on the sink – but it grew into more noticeable things. His Firebolt was now propped up alongside one of my many bookshelves, and the Marauders' Map had found its way into one of my desk drawers. One day, I asked Harry if there was anything left in his flat. He thought about it for a second before shaking his head, and telling me, "No, I really don't think there is. Also, if you're going to the market any time soon, we're out of milk."

After that conversation, Harry terminated his lease with his landlady, and we went and put his name on mine, getting an extra key made even though we didn't need to. Every so often, I would find a small handful of Sickles sitting beside the grocery list or on top of the water bill – Harry's way of helping out, even though I told him it was fine.

When I told my mum that Harry had moved in with me, she laughed, saying, "Finally, dear. I knew that wouldn't take too long."

I rolled my eyes even though she couldn't see me through the telephone. "it's… Nice," I told her, winding the cord around my fingers as I watched Harry dance to the Wireless as he cooked dinner.

"I don't doubt that, dear," she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "Now, Hermione, I hate to ask, but are you… well, are you being _careful_?"

"Mum!" I shrieked, causing Harry to look at me curiously and Crookshanks to glare at me. "Merlin's sake, that's not – we're not – I mean –"

"I only assumed!" She said, laughing openly now. "Typically that is why couples move in together, you know."

"God, Mum, no. Okay? No." I blanched, not wanting to have this conversation over the phone – or ever. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Alright dear," she said. "I love you! And the boy and the cat as well!"

"Love you too, Mum," I told her. I hung up the phone and collapsed on the couch.

"Everything okay, Hermione?" Harry asked, poking his head over the bar that looked out over the living room.

I groaned. "Define the word 'okay'?"

"Are you going to live?"

"Maybe," I said melodramatically as Crookshanks crawled up onto my stomach. "Mum asked if we were being, y'know, _careful._"

"No!" Harry laughed, picking up a steaming pot from the stovetop.

"Yes," I called back. "I just didn't even know how to answer her."

"Screaming seemed to work pretty well," he quipped.

I threw a pillow at the wall.

* * *

><p>I let the conversation with my mum fall to the back of my mind for several weeks. It wasn't until Harry was getting ready to leave for his very first official Auror mission that it got brought up again. Only, this time, it was from Harry himself.<p>

"'Mione?" He said, looking up from the rucksack he was packing. "Have you seen my comb?"

He was leaving in the morning, and I was very vehemently ignoring that fact. I didn't know where he was going, which worried me, but he was also going to be gone for three nights.

"Your comb is on the dresser, dear. Though I really don't know why you bother with it," I sassed, turning the page of the report I was reading. It was dull and dreadful and full of grossly legal words. _Internships. _

"Oh, come on now, Hermione," Harry teased. "You know I always try my best to look handsome for you."

I rolled my eyes as he army crawled from his side of the bed to mine, smiling at me like there was no tomorrow. "Try harder, Potter."

He flopped over on his back, disrupting my papers. "But aren't you going to miss me?"

"Of course I will," I told him, gathering the rest of the report and tossing it on the floor. It could wait until tomorrow. "I'm trying to ignore the fact that you're actually leaving."

I laid back against the pillows and Harry scrambled up beside me. "It's only for three days, though."

"Three horribly, awfully, long, boring days," I teased. "I'll simply die without you."

"No, you won't," he leaned over and kissed me, a gloriously slow kiss that I lavished in. I tugged on his bottom lip with my teeth, teasing him, and he reciprocated by pining me to the bed with his weight. He kissed up my jawline to my ear, where he whispered my name, his breath hot against my skin. It gave me chills.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his mouth back to mine, and his hand found my thigh, sliding up my pajama shorts as though it had a mind of its own. _Slow, _my brain told me. _Go slow. _

Then I felt his hands on my waist and his lips on my collarbone, and I knew then that if I didn't stop him there, then I was a goner for sure.

"Harry," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. "Harry!"

"Mpf?" was his only response as he rolled off of me and onto his back.

I propped myself up on one elbow, tugging my tank top back into place as I did. "Harry, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said, letting out a long breath, running his hands through his hair. "Slow… Slow is okay."

"You don't mean that," I responded, picking at the quilt. "I know you don't."

He looked up at me a little guiltily. "Alright, maybe not. But, I mean, you've thought about it, right? I'm not going crazy over here, am I?"

_It wouldn't be the first time, _my mind supplied. I ignored it. "I… have," I admitted after a long pause. And I had. I'd thought about it a lot, actually, not that I would ever admit that to my mother or to Harry. I wanted to take things slow, and Harry knew that. We'd talked about it, agreed to it, even.

"Hermione," he said, grabbing my hand. "Look. I know that we've talked about it, and I agree with you that we should take our time, but… I don't know, 'Mione. I just, I feel like we've waited a long time." He paused. "I'm not going to let it become the focal point of us, but darling, I think it might be a good idea to take the next step."

I looked down at our hands. Maybe he was right. And I had been thinking about it a lot more, recently. Especially since he'd moved into my flat, into my bed.

He leaned over to give me a quick kiss. "I love you, darling. Get some sleep, okay?"

I pulled his glasses off and put them on the nightstand. Too often had he fallen asleep wearing them. "I love you, too."

He rolled over, turned his lamp out, and was asleep in minutes. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, trying to reconcile two very different parts of my brain – two very different parts of myself.

* * *

><p>I woke up the next morning to Harry kissing me on the lips. It wasn't an unpleasant way to wake up, but it definitely startled me. "What're you doing?" I stammered, fighting to disentangle my legs from the covers.<p>

Harry laughed at me. "I thought I'd kiss you goodbye before I left."

"Typically that's goes over better when the recipient is actually awake and can reciprocate."

"Noted," he said, bending down to pick up his bag. "I love you, Hermione," he said softly, resting his forehead on mine before kissing me again.

"I love you, too, Harry," I replied, wishing that he wasn't leaving. _You can do this, _I told myself. _It's only three nights. _

He turned on his heel, Disaparating to the Ministry where he, and the rest of his team, would catch their Portkey. I flopped back on the bed, not mentally prepared to take on the day. Crookshanks joined me after a few minutes, curling up sympathetically against my side.

"At least you're not going anywhere," I crooned to him.

He purred loudly in response.

* * *

><p>The first night without Harry passed without a real incident. I called and talked to my mum for almost two hours, flipped aimlessly through the channels on the telly (yet another Muggle invention that Ron was completely baffled by), and read until my eyes were tired and my nerves were frayed. The shower helped, and so did a hot cup of tea, and 11:00 saw me sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing one of Harry's old shirts and thumbing through yet another report. Even freshly laundered, the shirt smelled like a mix of his cologne and his aftershave, and a little bit of broom polish even though he hasn't polished the Firebolt in weeks.<p>

I woke up somewhere around 2 AM with a piece of parchment stuck to my face. I moved the papers off of the bed and curled into a ball beneath the covers, Crookshanks a complacent keeper of Harry's spot on the bed.

_Maybe I would be okay. _

* * *

><p>The second night wasn't so easy. A storm raged outside, rain pounding the windows and wind pulling on the building. I laid on top of the covers, taking up the whole bed, my mind racing. My mother had brought up sex again when I had called her after dinner, and reluctantly I told her about what Harry had said the night before he left.<p>

She wasn't much help. "It's only logical, Hermione," she had told me. "It's not like he's some Joe Schmoe that you met at the pub six months ago. Even though you haven't been 'dating' very long, you should consider the depth of your friendship with him as well."

What was I afraid of, really? Harry loved me, I knew that. In a silly little way, I knew that he had always loved me – rescuing someone from a mountain troll kind of creates a special bond. _But it was more than that,_ I thought, memories of my boggart resurfacing. I was afraid of failing him; I was afraid of falling short.

And that was an insecurity I would have to learn to deal with. Otherwise, the world was going to eat me alive.

* * *

><p>Harry had left on a Tuesday morning, and somewhere in the wee hours of Thursday morning, I began counting down the minutes until he returned on Friday evening.<p>

I was almost a total train wreck Friday after work. I paced, I knitted, I read, I baked, and I cleaned, all in an effort to burn out the nervous energy. I'd made up my mind about several things the night before, and I was more than ready for Harry to be home.

I hadn't heard from him since he'd left, which I had expected, but it still worried me. After seven years of being on Voldemort's radar, I had come to expect the worst when it came to Harry and life-threatening situations. I reminded myself over and over again that it was just training, and that everything would be just fine.

At approximately 7:06 PM, I heard keys jingling in the door and nearly jumped out of my skin. The door swung open, revealing a very tired look Harry Potter, whose robes were ripped along the hem.

"Harry!" I vaulted off the couch and across the room, throwing my arms around his neck. "For heaven's sake, what happened to you?"

He hugged me back, and shut the door behind him. "Nothing bad, Hermione, I promise."

I leaned forward and kissed him, relishing in just having him home. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," he murmured against my lips. "It's good to see you."

I tugged on his bottom lip with my teeth, deepening the kiss, digging my hands in his ever-messy hair. He reciprocated by pressing me firmly against the wall, one hand planted firmly over my shoulder, grounding him to where he stood, the other at my waist and traveling.

"If this is the kind of welcome home I get every time I'm gone," Harry whispered, "then maybe I should leave more often."

I laughed, a husky sound that caught me off-guard. "Harry," I said, my fingers playing with the hair at the back of his head. "I've… changed my mind. About, well, about going slow."

His eyes widened in surprise. "What on earth did you spend the last three days thinking about?"

"You," I said, honestly. "You and me, and where we've been and where we are. I love you, Harry Potter, and I want what's best for the both of us."

A wicked smile spread across his face. "Well then," he said, picking me up bridal-style. "I think we have matters to attend to then."

I giggled, feeling giddy. "Yes, yes we do."

"And love," Harry said as we crossed the threshold to the bedroom. "As much as I love the way you look in my shirt, it's rather in the way, don't you think?"

* * *

><p>Words: 3,075<p>

(A/N: I think this is the longest thing that I've ever written in one document. Wow. Okay. I hope this was worth the wait! I'm hoping to finish this fic by the end of the summer, but we'll see. Also, in case anyone's confused with the times in this chapter... I'm hopelessly American, and military time confuses me, so, the 12-hour system is my fail-safe.)


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